


Hidden

by Capucine



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Animated), Justice League & Justice League Unlimited (Cartoons), Teen Titans (Animated Series), Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Abuse, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, F/F, F/M, M/M, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-02
Updated: 2015-11-20
Packaged: 2018-04-18 15:06:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4710359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Capucine/pseuds/Capucine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Nightwing's mate, Raven, is brutally beaten and left unable to give answers, and Nightwing goes completely AWOL, many in the League think he did it. They think he's a classic example of an Alpha giving in to his temper and beating his Omega mate.</p><p>But there is a lot more to it than that, and a more sinister plot in place than there seems to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted to write something fun. It's kinda a fusion of the cartoons, including Teen Titans.

You'd think, even with the pervasiveness, upper, middle, lower class, Christian, Muslim, Atheist, so on... You'd think that a superhero community would not have such a thing happen.

And yet, they did not know all of what happened. All they knew for sure was, a superhero had been struck down, and their partner was nowhere to be found.

Raven was an Omega, considered one of the most vulnerable groups in society due to their low numbers and natural weakness and susceptibility to hormones. To be fair, she was probably one of the most potentially-strong members of the League—just old enough to have joined, at least on paper. Her real age was a mystery to most.

And she was completely unreachable. Her body simply levitated, utterly brutalized and mind seemingly shut down. They'd put her in the League watch tower, where Martian Manhunter had tried to enter her mind and discover where exactly Dick, now Nightwing, was.

There was nothing he could find to enter, or else shields so strong that they completely masked her mind.

The theories abounded, and the bat family was on the prowl for Dick. To be fair, they believed he had been kidnapped, but that was not the face most of the other superheroes were putting on it.

There was not a trace of Dick's blood on the scene. There was no sign _he_ had struggled, and an alarming lack of struggle from Raven, suggesting that she had trusted whoever had attacked her.

And, unfortunately, that was also the story that was in the news. Many people in the League genuinely believed Dick had done it, and some had even had harsh words for him in the media—such as, 'Give yourself up now. There's no running from this,' from Hawkgirl. She'd followed it up with the statement that there would be leniency, and if he had nothing to hide, he had nothing to fear from them—but that was cut from the news clip.

Tabloids were rife with details, juicy bits of the attack that did not exist, secret hideaways of Nightwing's, and of course, the supposed string of attacks he'd done since then on civilians.

It was a tense time, to say the least.

It was one such day, as the League was smeared as an abuser-protecting group, that Superman took Batman aside.

“Look, Bruce,” he sighed, knowing they were out of earshot of all, “You have to give him up.”

“What are you saying, Kent?” Batman said coldly, eyes narrowed at Superman. He knew exactly what he was saying, of course, but he was letting him rethink it.

It might've changed the others' minds. But Superman was a fairly self-assured person, and he said, “Look. I... Martian Manhunter is sensing you're keeping a secret. He hasn't dug around in your mind, I promise, but--”

“I keep all kinds of secrets,” Batman said flatly, “But if you're implying I would hide Dick away if he did truly do this, then you're dead wrong. If I knew where he was and believed for an instant he was guilty, I would be the first one hauling him to justice.”

Superman frowned. “We both know that's not true.”

“Please. Give an example of times I've shielded my abusive, criminal children from the law,” Batman said, sounding somewhat irritable. No, more than irritable, but not quite angry.

“Jason.” Superman believed this one word proved his point.

Batman's eyes narrowed. “There's a wide difference between committing a crime out of pure malice and out of being driven insane.” His voice dropped to a deadly tone. “ _You know exactly what happened with Jason._ So don't you _dare_ try to use him in this.”

Superman seemed to falter a little, but he continued, “When an Alpha brutalizes their mate, they need to be brought to justice. There is no excuse.”

“And if that was the case, I would agree with you,” Batman said, “You're awfully quick to condemn Dick without even knowing where he is or for sure what he's done.”

“Do you want me to seek him out with my x-ray vision? Where is he most likely to hide? I'll bring him back here, and you can have him tell me what happened to my face.”

If Superman could see Batman's eyes under his cowl, then he would know they were flashing with anger. “Don't you think we've been there? Don't you think we've been _everywhere_ we suspect?”

Superman sighed. “Bruce... I know Ja... I know it's very hard for you not to feel protective of your children. But you need to give Dick up.”

“This conversation is over,” Batman said flatly. There would be no convincing Clark Kent of anything.

“If that's not the secret, then what is? J'onzz says it's related to Dick. If it's not that he did this to Raven, then what is it?” Superman's boy scout blue eyes were trying to convince Batman to engage in truth-telling.

It simply wasn't going to happen.

Batman turned on his heel and stalked down the hallway. “I have leads to follow.”

He could not reveal Dick's secret. To do so would be to leave him vulnerable, to betray him, and besides which, it was certainly none of the rest of the superheroes' business.

“Bruce...”

But Batman headed for the transport tube. He had intended to use the League's computers for a while, for the sake of checking up on League business at the same time, but he would rather give that up and use the equally-good batcave computers if it meant getting away from well-meaning but idiotic Superman.

He knew the truth, and he would prove it. Most importantly, however, he would bring Dick home.

–

Dick had been hanging by his wrists for a long time.

By now, his hands were quite numb, and the gag in his mouth tasted of filth. His toes barely touched the ground, but he managed to sort of relax, knowing how important it was to keep his wits about him as best he could.

His suit, the Nightwing suit, was sturdy, a built in chest protector that had resisted the abuse. His legs and arms, however, were quite shredded away, and it bothered him to an extent how his crotch was in danger of similar shredding, already somewhat ripped. But no one had made a move towards that, which was a small mercy.

“It must be killing you,” came the voice, startling him into awareness. 

He would have made a quip, but then, he was gagged, and so he stayed still, calm, if he didn't move, then he wouldn't react.

He had been here probably a week. Probably.

Something hard, metal, traced along his back, as if a reminder of where all his bruises had come from.

“To be so easily taken out. What kind of superhero goes down without a fight? No, what kind of _Batman_ born, bred and raised superhero is so easily overcome?”

Dick would have glared, had he been able to see the man.

He had deduced a few things.

The man was an Alpha, one could tell by his scent. Next, the man was strong, and had a hint of New Yorker (he hadn't quite been able to pin down a specific area, it was a mix) accent. He was _probably_ white, though he could be wrong, and he probably didn't have that great a sense of smell for his dynamic.

The man had a full mask on, as he circled around to Dick's front. His baton traced up his chest now, sending an unwilling shiver up Dick's body at the chill.

Now Dick glared.

The man hit him across the face, not for the first time. “Mm. You know, those Leaguers will regret their actions against us once we're done. The Omegas may be rare, but they are an extraordinary weak spot in your League.” He clicked his tongue. “It really is a big liability to have such things as Omega superheroes. Shame about your girlfriend, huh?”

They thought binding his ankles together would protect them. But Dick had been waiting for this chance.

Placing all his weight on his wrists (agonizing, but worth it), he swung his bound feet viciously and fast as the Flash at the man's crotch. He got a moment of satisfaction as he hit his target and the man screamed, clutching at his genitals.

Alphas were _incredibly_ sensitive in that area.

The man screamed obscenities as soon as he had words again, one hand clutching his crotch and the other the thick baton. He raised it, and beat Dick mercilessly.

Dick bore it until he blacked out.

–

Flash, or Wally West, was a respected hero. At a mere nineteen years of age, he had taken on the Flash mantle from his deceased uncle. He had taken over the care of the Twin Cities, and was a very active member of the League.

And he was sitting here stuffing his face with hot dogs.

Superman let out a sigh, but with Green Lantern and Hawkgirl flanking him, he hoped to get the Scarlet Speedster on his side with this pressure on Batman to give Dick up.

They all sat across from him.

Wally looked up with a big smile, minding his manners and not showing them the food in his mouth. He swallowed hastily, coughed a bunch for his trouble, and then said, “Hey guys, what's up?”

“Flash, we have something important to ask you,” Superman said, cutting to the chase.

Picking up on the tone, Flash seemed to wilt a little, but he smiled again. “Okay. But uh, if this is about that whole thing with Vixen, I swear it was an accident, I mean, she has nice boobs but I'm just not the kind of guy to plant my face in them from a running start--”

“Flash. The matter at hand--”

“What do you mean you planted your face in Vixen's cleavage?” Green Lantern demanded, eyes narrowing.

“I tripped...” Flash said weakly, looking like he thought Green Lantern might make a big hammer and squash him.

“I saw him. It wasn't a big deal,” Hawkgirl said flatly. “Though she might have a bruise on her sternum for a little while.”

Green Lantern was about to say something, but Superman cut in.

“Flash. We need to know what you know about Nightwing.”

Flash's eyes widened for a moment, and he said, “Uh, uh, not sure why you'd ask me that! I mean, seriously, I know as much as the next guy—”

“You're best friends with Nightwing. You'd know why he did this to Raven,” Green Lantern said, a grim look on his face.

Flash nervously flexed his fingers. “You know he didn't do it. He wouldn't do that to Raven. I mean, he knows her weaknesses and could probably take her down if he _wanted_ to, but uh, he doesn't.”

“He did, Flash,” Superman said flatly, “Who else would be able to incapacitate her with such ease? Especially considering he's completely missing now.”

Flash glared a little, but seemed hesitant to do so. “No. No, Nightwing is in danger or—or something, they've taken him. You can't seriously think he'd do this.”

“We do, unfortunately,” Green Lantern said, “Besides which, what part of training kids to be deadly weapons do you think makes them good Alphas?”

Flash bit his lip. “Nightwing's a good guy. He's in complete control of his temper. You don't know any of them like I do.”

Superman sighed. “Flash, we need you to talk to Batman. Get him to surrender Nightwing to justice.”

Flash looked very hesitant to contradict Superman, his idol. He swallowed thickly, and said, “Bats isn't hiding him. I've been helping to look for him, trust me, he is in none of the usual hideouts.”

“Nightwing is potentially a dangerous criminal, Flash,” Superman said.

“Didn't you, uh, hear me? He's not there. He's not hiding, he's _kidnapped_.” Flash shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

He fully intended to return to the search after he was done refueling. 

He knew Dick's secret, as Dick knew his. And there was no way he was giving it away.

The other superheroes reluctantly left him alone. “If he hurts anyone else and you let him get away with it, it'll be on your head, Flash.”

Flash nodded.

God, he hoped that they found Dick soon. He needed to be safe, to have his name cleared.

And he needed to be found before his secret was found out.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Having a fun time meshing everything. :) Expect Jason and Tim in the next chapter!

Starfire looked over Raven.

Her gray skin was littered with bruises of all kinds, like someone had simply decided to try to kick her to death. There were hand marks too, though, so they knew that wasn't the case. Her bottom lip had been bit viciously, and Starfire knew, from what their doctors had explained, that there was sexual assault involved.

She simply levitated above the bed, and Starfire knew from experience this was how her powers knit her back together.

She wasn't sure what to believe about Dick. She _knew_ him, knew that he wouldn't hurt Raven or anyone he cared about... but at the same time, he had done it before. Her suspicion was not so much kidnapping as another Slade-type episode, mind control or blackmail or somesuch. She knew that Dick would take such drastic measures if he thought it would protect people.

He hadn't _killed_ Raven. Starfire had often wondered if he held her anti-heat pills against her, the fact she could never bear him a child while on them. She wondered if he was angry about something she hadn't noticed, some crack in their calm relationship she hadn't picked up on.

But she gently brushed back Raven's hair, knowing that it didn't make much difference, but not knowing what else to do.

Dick had to have a reason.

And she would give him a chance until he gave that reason.

–

Batman had been searching out every lead for the entire week that Dick had been gone. He hadn't slept much, ringed eyes a testament to that.

He _had_ to find Dick. He knew the danger he was in, if he was still alive.

Sometimes he wondered if it had ever been wise to take Dick on. He wondered this with Jason and Tim at times too, but now it had confronted him full force with Dick.

Dick had a special disadvantage.

There was a reason there was a preponderance of Alpha superheroes. They naturally had strength, a protective instinct, and all kinds of physiological advantages. An Alpha could influence Omegas with their scents, had the natural ability to make most other dynamics feel safe and protected...

And Dick was not an Alpha superhero.

He was an Omega.

Bruce had helped his protege hide his nature from the rest of the world, a scent-spray that excellently mimicked the smell of an Alpha. He'd lent this secret weapon to several Omega superheroes.

Bruce was no fool. He knew that Omegas could be special targets to the particularly evil supervillains. 

He tapped away on his computer, frustration in his gut but knowing that if he didn't find Dick soon, things could be disastrous. Not only would the spray wear off soon, but things were far more dire than that.

Dick, without his anti-heat pills, would be due to go into heat any day now.

Bruce's teeth clenched. He simply wasn't going to let that happen.

“Any luck?” Barbara Gordon's voice came through the comlink.

“None.” Bruce's irritation was not hidden.

“Tim and I are sweeping through the places you marked out in Metropolis. Trust me, Batman, we're not resting until he's found.”

“Mm.” Batman wished there had been more clues left behind. He had a suspicion of a weapon that was far more dangerous than what they'd known about, something that would strike the League and leave a path of destruction.

“Batgirl out.”

–

Dick felt like his shoulders had been displaced, at least a little. He was hurting all over, and with his fingers numb, there was no picking his way free.

A man came stalking in.

But Dick recognized the step instantly, and his fears were instantly confirmed with a cackle.

“Hello, bird boy!”

He would have said something, had he not had a gag in his mouth. His eyes narrowed in anger, protective instincts flaring up despite the fact Jason was not here and he was the one in danger.

Joker cackled as he paced around to the front of Dick. “Aw, are you still mad about little wing? That is what you called him, isn't it?” At Dick's furious glare, he continued on. “Still, I didn't come to talk about him. I came to see you, and...”

He trailed off, sniffing the air.

Joker was an Alpha. Yeah, of all the worst luck in the world, that was what he was. If he had only been a Beta, he would never have picked up on the Omega scent irradiating from Dick.

The Joker laughed, saying, “No way! It can't be! _You_ , an Omega?”

Dick just glared. There wasn't much else he could do.

“Well, let's take a look to prove it, hm?” Joker closed the distance, and flicked out a knife. Dick took care not to flinch back, but the knife cut through the shreds of his uniform still covering his crotch.

He felt horribly exposed as the fake testicles fell and his cock was left out in the cold. He let out a muffled cry when Joker grabbed it, lifting it up as though he couldn't see that Dick had no testicles.

Omegas didn't have testicles. They did have some small glands that allowed them testosterone, but that was it. It was one reason the Omega was generally less muscular and big than the Alpha or even the Beta.

“Oopsie, nothing here!” Joker laughed. He patted the 'empty' space, a move which made Dick arch up in discomfort.

The Joker let go of him, moving away and still laughing. “Well, I guess that explains the more slim build, hm? I always thought you were sort of slight for an Alpha, but I just thought we came in all sizes.”

Dick just glared, clenching his gag in his teeth.

The Joker circled around him, saying, “Hm. Hm hm hm, what to do with a vulnerable little bat kid? I mean, we already know what we did with the last one, but do we really want a repeat?”

Dick growled.

Joker ripped the gag out of his mouth, complaining, “You're not much fun when you can't talk, you know. That's why I tried not to keep the other one too gagged. By the way, I haven't seen him out and about, and my feelings are hurt. After all the time we spent together, he hasn't called on me once!”

“Fuck you,” Dick growled, “You even think of hurting him--”

“Not too concerned about him right now, honestly. My focus is on you, and clipping your wings,” Joker said with a smile. “Though, it might be fun to have a Red Hood repeat, don't you think?”

Dick jerked in his bonds, wanting so badly to hurt Joker. They'd been lucky enough to recover Jason; the Clown Prince of Crime had escaped, despite their best efforts. That hadn't meant he hadn't wanted to pound him into the ground, preferably with a studded baseball bat. “You're not going to be able to clip my wings. Batman won't let it happen again.”

“It's been a week, Nightwing. Don't you think he's gotten a little bored of looking? I would. Besides, I swear he gave up on little wing about, mm, a few weeks in? Maybe a month?” Joker grinned, seeming delighted with this.

Nightwing glared, saying, “You faked his death. There's no way you'll be able to pull that off again.”

“But I'm not alone in this, oh no. Actually, the news stations have a lot to say about you, bird boy.” Joker produced a newspaper, flipping it open. “I know, I know, newspapers are dying, but this one seems to have something interesting to say about you.”

Nightwing just glared. If Joker wanted to tell him, he would.

Joker laughed. “Let's see, let's see, A3... Ah, here we are! 'Nightwing Beats Mate and Disappears: Hawkgirl Pleads for Him to Give Himself Up.' Oh, and there are other quotes from the League members, of course. Hm, hm... Ah, Green Lantern says that all Alphas have to be held accountable, Superman says that you will be brought to justice... Nothing from old Bats, of course, he's never been fond of the media...”

Nightwing stared stupidly. They couldn't seriously think... why would they assume he had done it? Granted, they believed he was an Alpha, but that he would harm Raven this way? That he would _ever_ raise a hand against her? Did they even know him at all?

Joker cackled. “Well, I guess it's good to know you're missed, huh? I wonder if, _if_ you return, you will be able to salvage your superheroing career?”

“It doesn't matter,” Nightwing said flatly. “I don't care if I'm popular.”

“Mm. Well, you won't be fit to do all that superheroing anyway, so I guess it's a moot point, huh?” Joker threw the newspaper on the ground, where Nightwing could see the headline, and headed for the door. “Have a nice nap before my associate comes back! I do hope you're comfortable!”

Then he laughed, and disappeared.

–

It was a small thing, but the Flash still was glad for it. Miss Martian had been an excellent help in looking for Nightwing, believing that there was no way that Nightwing would do something like this.

M'gann had grown a lot since they had first met. She had a more serious demeanor, less of the copying-of-Earth-television thing going on. She didn't always play by the rules either, but that was something the Flash was willing to overlook for the moment.

“So far, all I'm picking up on are signals from the other Robins in Gotham. The one that got lost, he's in great distress, and the other one seems to be in an echo of distress, but nothing on Nightwing. He's probably not in Gotham, or he's shielded very well,” M'gann sighed.

She looked over at Flash, saying, “Sorry, Wally, but I don't know where else to look.”

They'd already been through Bludhaven and Central City. They'd taken a long time looking through New York City, and then through several other superpowered cities. But they couldn't very well search the whole world this way, and Flash knew that.

Flash sighed, saying, “Well, you did do your best.” He couldn't think much more on what to say. His best friend's disappearance was weighing heavily on him, his concern like a wet blanket thrown over his shoulders and waking him up at night. He ate, breathed, and slept anxiety.

M'gann put a hand on his shoulder. “Nightwing is very tough. He'll be okay, we'll find him.”

Flash wanted to believe her. He was an optimistic guy by nature. But what exactly were they supposed to do if Dick couldn't be found by normal means? What if he was on an alien planet somewhere, or deep underground?

If he hadn't been wearing the Alpha spray, he was sure they would have been able to track his scent. Another case of catch-22 for the Omega superhero.

M'gann said, “Doesn't he have some sort of tracking device? Isn't Batman kind of paranoid like that?”

Flash's mouth twisted. “Yeah. They took it off. Dunno how they knew where it was, but it's gone. We found it in the alley outside their apartment.”

“And the League thinks he took it off himself,” M'gann said, a sympathetic look on her face.

“Yeah.” Flash headed to the edge of the building top they'd been standing on. “You know he wouldn't do this. You know he wouldn't hide himself like this.”

“If he wanted to, he could, but I agree with you. Nightwing would never do this,” M'gann said.

Flash growled in frustration, slamming his fist into the bricks. “I mean, damnit, why would anyone do this? Why would anyone target _him_?”

“To get back at Batman. To get back at superheroes in general. Maybe one of his personal enemies. I don't know, Wally,” M'gann replied.

Flash had never felt more useless. For now, he just radioed Batman. “No luck with Miss Martian. Any luck on your end? No? Okay.”

They had to find him. Flash had no doubt that horrible things would happen if they did not.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stargirl and Supergirl investigate a suspicious company. Tim doesn't know how to deal with Jason.

Courtney, aka Stargirl, floated through the air with her blonde hair moving a bit behind her head. She knew her mate, Kara, aka Supergirl, would catch up at any moment, but she still liked to get ahead of her sometimes. 

Some said their relationship was strained, that it could never work. With Courtney an Alpha and Supergirl an Omega, they'd said the power imbalance would lead to all kinds of problems.

The instant attraction had been why Courtney had hated her instantly. Maybe she'd believed the stereotypes that a stronger Omega could never be with a weaker Alpha. Maybe she was annoyed at the young upstart just barging in and being way more powerful than her.

In any case, after being trapped in an alien cell together for a full two days, they'd worked out their differences, and started out with friendship, which then morphed into a relationship.

Courtney gave a small smile down at Kara, as she easily came up to her. Her little cape fluttered in the wind. 

“Hey. What's up?” Kara smiled at Courtney. It had taken her a little while to get used to human culture, after the whole growing up on Krypton thing, but she really had a handle on slang. Well, most of the time.

Stargirl sighed, and looked out over the city. “We're supposed to be able to see the lab from here. You sure that we didn't get the wrong coordinates?”

Kara looked out over the city too. Then she smiled over at Courtney. “It's the nondescript gray building right there. I can see the machines inside. Come on, we have work to do.”

“Kay, Superbabe,” Courtney said, the slightest of a smirk on her lips.

Kara let out a giggle, before putting on a more serious work face. “Come on.”

They both flew, next to each other, down to the building. It had a sign on the side, some random word that must have described the company they wanted to pretend to be, only they knew that was a front. Inside were machines specifically made to deal with metas.

Which neither Kara nor Courtney technically were: Kryptonians naturally had this power, and Courtney's powers came from her staff.

Courtney expertly moved a large window out of its frame, and set it on the roof of the building next to it. As they swooped inside, they weren't all that surprised by what they saw: Reams of paper, scattered on the floor. Machines not running. Computers unplugged.

Well, this was a pretty bad job of trying to hide evidence, but then, the criminals had only had a short time before they knew the government knew about their illegal practices. The Justice League knew they'd already flown the coop by the time they got the information.

Batman would have been pissed, had he paid much attention to this at all. He was very concerned about his... son? Son, probably, Nightwing.

Courtney started picking through the papers, saying to Supergirl, “You see anything useful, Kar?”

Kara was speedily sifting through pages, a much faster reader than Courtney. “Hm... Bits and pieces. Stuff on... hormones. And natures. And...” She paused on a page, eyeing it closely. It had diagrams, that much Courtney could see through the page, but Kara didn't fill her in on what it said.

So, naturally, she came over next to her to lean over her shoulder.

The diagrams were of the hormone-producing parts of Omegas, which were not terribly disimilar to female Beta parts, but which had some differences. To be fair, Courtney hadn't quite taken that class in school yet.

She skimmed the words on the page. Mostly, it seemed to talk about messing with hormones, not entirely stuff she understood, unfortunately.

But Kara apparently did, standing abruptly. “We need to get this information to the Justice League. I'll call in backup to accompany you on the rest of this, I'll take this back.”

“What—Kar, why? What's it mean?” Courtney asked, a little embarrassed that she didn't quite have the scientific knowledge that Kara did in this case, but not so embarrassed she wasn't going to ask.

Kara gathered up more papers hurriedly. “This—it's all a plan. A weapon, used against Omegas.”

“And you are one...” Courtney said, eyes widening. “Yeah, you'd better--”

“Stargirl, someone's on the other side of the door,” Supergirl said abruptly, and she took a defensive stance, as though prepared to protect Courtney.

Courtney used her staff to blast away the door, snapping, “I can handle it, get out of here! If they have some special weapon against Omegas--”

“I can handle it, it's just one guy, and what if you can't--”

“I _can_ handle it, Supergirl,” Stargirl snapped. It made her mad sometimes when it felt a little like Kara was flaunting her powers and her overall higher strength in Courtney's face. She was distracted by this, but she still reacted when the guy on the other side of the door came through, hands behind his back and a grin on his face.

“Trouble in paradise, ladies?” he asked, smirking. He had dark black hair, slimy-looking eyes. His eyes seemed to rake over their bodies, and it made Courtney want to kill him, seeing him look at Kara like that.

“Hey! You shut up!” She used her staff to pick him up off the ground, securely trapped. “See, I got it. Just go, Supergirl.”

Kara seemed to hesitate.

That was all the creep needed.

There was a flash of light, as he barely moved to press something in his pocket, and Kara was down. She was on the floor, looking vacantly at the ceiling.

To say Stargirl was horrified would be the understatement of the century. She growled, slamming him against the wall. 

“You might be able to take out Supergirl, but your toy's useless against me!” She slammed him against another wall.

This only produced laughter from him, condescending, idiotic laughter. She wanted to kill him, though only figuratively. Well, kind of.

“I don't need special toys to take out you,” he said, smirk something that looked like it should be wiped off with something very abrasive. He suddenly sent her magic shredding into nonexistence, with an uttered word.

“You think you're the only one with access to magic, Stargirl?” He sent a blast towards her.

She was quick to block, and then fly towards him, intending to slam him into the wall. She clocked him, hard, with the staff, and she could already see his jaw swelling as he turned towards her.

He was scowling now. Obviously, he had thought this would be slightly easier. He sent another blast towards her, eyes blazing.

She blocked. Her eyes kept darting towards Kara, sprawled on the floor helplessly, and she couldn't help but think, 'I will save you. You'll see, I'm a good Alpha after all.'

Her thought was cut short.

Abruptly short.

Pain exploded in her head, then black.

–

The screaming was something that didn't startle Batman anymore, though it always hurt.

“I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I didn't know what else to do!” Tim stammered, in the doorway of the padded room and watching with a pained anxiety on his face. Batman just walked past him, and into the spot where his former partner was in pure torment.

Jason Todd, second Robin, and the first to go utterly insane. The first Batman had failed.

He was screaming, thrashing as best he could in the straitjacket that Tim had wrestled him into. Tears were streaking down his cheeks, and Batman could feel his heart clench. He felt a great hatred towards the Joker for doing this to his protege. Whatever Jason had done, there was no way he could have deserved this.

Tim was by him as he drew the needle, the syringe. “I'm really, really sorry, you know I'm not allowed to administer anything, and he was like, he was hurting himself again, and I just--”

“I know, Tim,” Batman said, as he undid the straps. Jason fought to be free sooner.

His chorus, the usual words, were, “I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry--” going on and on. Blurring into each other until they weren't words, until they switched over to “Please, please, please--”

As soon as Jason was freed, Batman held him in place long enough to administer the shot. Thankfully, he knew Batman's touch, and actually didn't try to fight him. He was still screaming, in one of his flashbacks, but he apparently knew enough to differentiate between the harmful touches of the Joker and the steady touches of Bruce.

His father.

Jason stilled, screams slowing down to a quiet sound emitting from his throat, and then to nothing.

He looked up at Batman, blue eyes hazy. “You... you left me...” he accused, in a broken voice, “You're not here. Not here. It's a trick--”

“No, Jason, it's me,” Bruce sighed, slipping off his cowl. He knew seeing his face might help; sometimes it did, sometimes it didn't.

“You left me...” Jason insisted, his eyes flicking over to Tim. “He's... Tim... you can't... he's not...”

“He didn't replace you, Jason. He's just another member of our team,” Bruce said, as gently as possible. He took one of Jason's hands, which was weak under the power of the sedative. He still inwardly winced when he saw the 'J' emblazoned on Jason's cheek, the mark of the Joker. He'd gotten good at hiding it, though.

Jason's body did a full shudder, and he weakly whimpered, “Please, please, just come this time, I'm gonna die here...”

It was like trying to swallow acid, hearing him say things like that. When he was utterly trapped in his memories, and believed they were hallucinations. Bruce pushed his hair back from his face, where it stuck to his forehead.

God knew he wasn't good at this sort of thing. He cared deeply for each of his adopted children, but he wasn't always good at showing it. He didn't always know the right way to do it.

“It's okay, Jason. You're not captured, you're home.”

“Please,” he kept pleading, “Be there. Please. When I wake up, please be there.”

Bruce did everything he could to keep the pain out of his voice. “Jason, I'm already here. You're home. No one's going to hurt you ever again.”

The haunted look in Jason's eyes said otherwise. “No, not—you have to be here for real. You have to be here when I wake up. I'll wake up, and you have to be here, okay? Please. Please, you have to be here.”

Bruce took in a deep breath, and pulled Jason close. He practically cradled him, the boy—who was almost seventeen—not resisting at all. He felt so small in his grasp, much smaller than he should have been. He felt weak, bird bones and skinny wrists.

A year of being in the Joker's care did that to a person, and Batman cursed himself once again for not knowing, for believing that Jason had been dead. For giving up after the first three months after the video that seemed to show indisputable evidence Jason had been shot and killed by the Joker.

“I'm sorry, Jason,” he said, voice painful in his throat. He knew all of what the Joker had done, from the videos the Joker had gleefully shown him to the medical analysis of Jason's injuries. It was unreal, the amounts of broken bones and other tortures that Jason had managed to survive.

Even if he was weak right now, Bruce knew he had been very strong. He had survived a lot longer than a lot of people would have, even if he had lost his mind.

“No,” Jason said, a soft note of despair in his voice, “No, don't be sorry, just be there, promise, please--”

“I promise,” Bruce said, “I promise I'll be there when you wake up.”

Jason still didn't look like he believed it. But this did quiet him down a little, body shivering violently in Bruce's hold.

“You promise?” he said quietly, solemnly. His eyes were desperate, looking into Bruce's for a promise he didn't seem sure he could give.

“Yes, I promise.” Bruce stayed with him for a short while longer, until he seemed to get out of that mode and simply fall asleep. That was good, as Jason did not exactly have a normal sleep schedule.

He silently walked out, Tim on his heels.

“I'm sorry...” Tim muttered, looking rather miserable.

Batman sighed. “You did the best you could. He's not going to calm down with you, no matter what. So, it's good that you stopped him from hurting himself.”

Tim nodded, biting his lip.

It wasn't really fair to him. He hadn't signed up to help care for a boy with a shattered mind. But, Jason was the whole Bat family's responsibility now, and Tim was part of it. Still, Bruce tried to leave them alone together as little as possible.

Bruce stalked back over to the monitor. He'd come from a meeting with the Justice League, but lately it had been kind of pointless. They all believed, it seemed, that Dick was quite guilty of what he was accused of in the Media's three ring circus court. They weren't generally helping with the search, and they weren't doing much that Batman would call useful.

He had still been directing things. He had still been finding leads and pointing them in the right direction. But his mind was barely on it, most of his being focusing on finding Dick.

He didn't want to think what could be happening to his protege.

It almost felt like a vain hope at this point, but he had to think that Dick was out there. 

He'd given up once before, and look what that had done.

The blood coating Jason's hands, while not truly his fault, would probably never go away. The way his mind had shattered—it might never be put back together.

And all because Batman had given up the search.

It wasn't going to happen again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kinda went with the Arkham Knight version of Jason's time with the Joker. Kinda. I figured it worked well. More will be revealed in the next chapter!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick dreads his oncoming heat. Starfire gets Wally to rest. And Courtney wakes up and finds out... nothing she wanted to know.

Taking anti-heat pills required tracking your cycle, and doing it well. You couldn't simply pop a pill and poof—heat gone. They used to have ugly little calendars to do it on, usually with some sort of printing on it that suggested babies or fertility somehow.

Like that really ugly one with rabbits dotting the cover that Dick had first gotten. Not everyone tracked theirs to take anti-heat pills, but these companies willfully ignored the fact that not everyone was looking to get pregnant through tracking their heats. Some people were simply trying to keep track for planning as well, as one needed time off work or what have you.

Heats only came about four times a year. That was pretty lucky compared to Beta females' periods, which came every month without fail unless they took cycle control or got pregnant. Or got old, like any of the 'receptacle' natures, as the textbooks so politely called them.

Anyway, most people who had phone didn't bother with the little tracker calendars anymore; a lot them used apps, disguised as nondescript ones with passcodes on their phones. Dick did this as well.

However, even though he hadn't looked at it in over a week, he knew precisely what was about to happen.

The ache began in his abdomen, and he could have started cursing up a storm right there. No one had come into his prison since the Joker, but that didn't mean the Joker was the only one who knew.

Contrary to popular myth, Alphas were not enslaved by the pheromones of an Omega in heat. Yes, it was attractive, but there was absolutely no reason not to control oneself.

Of course, such things didn't really matter if the goal was to hurt Dick. Whether or not an Alpha or male Beta had self control would have little to do with how they viewed his heat. He knew he needed to get out of here, find some loophole he hadn't noticed yet, before things got bad.

Fingers were still numb. He was pretty sure he could move them, but he also worried that he was going to lose them due to lack of circulation. That would probably take a while, if at all, because he was pretty certain he still had _some_ circulation, just not enough to maintain feeling.

No utility belt, most of his costume gone, no mask... he did still have his chest armor, of course, but that was useful for defense, and this was more of an offensive maneuver. 

Major disadvantages: his ankles were tightly bound and chained to the floor. He'd paid for that karmic attack fairly dearly. He kind of teetered on his toes of late, which were also starting to lose feeling.

Also, of course, he was cold. Really cold.

He cursed to himself. Heat thing; if anyone touched him, they would say he was very warm. Like a fever.

Hence the clever name of 'heat.' Some Alpha bonehead had probably thought of that.

An Omega would not call it a heat; they'd call it a curse. 'Yes, my quarterly curse is coming up; I'm going to take a break from hunting animals and gathering berries. Carry on.'

Dick might have sounded a little bitter, but he wasn't usually. He had a lot of good Alpha friends, and despite the general prejudice of society, especially America, he did quite well for himself. Granted, he hid that he was an Omega quite well, but he'd been in a relationship with an out Omega who was doing quite well.

Except she wasn't.

He clenched his teeth tightly. Raven had to be all right. She was strong, stronger than the enemy presumed. She would make it, he knew her. So why did his heart keep doing that painful twisting thing?

He tried not to lie to himself. That was a Batman thing. He was definitely worried out of his mind about Raven, the image of her violated, battered body on the ground.

It made him want to kill.

He took a deep breath. Whatever they had used to take her out, it was effective. However, it was slightly less effective on him, and he had to figure out why. Why had he been able to resist enough to fight, even if just a little? And of course, the fight had come after the initial stun, when they'd carried him outside without so much as ziptying his hands.

It suggested that the thing, the weapon, was considered one hundred percent effective. What factors did he have that Raven did not?

For one, he was male. Being a male Omega was very different from being a male Alpha; basically, the main similarities were vague similarities in appearance, along with Beta males. Similar voices too, and he was pretty sure more testosterone than the female counterpart of their nature.

Maybe testosterone was the answer.

Or maybe he needed to keep looking.

How did the weapon work? Who was the general target? Did it work against everyone, or just Omegas? And why would female Omegas be even more affected?

Maybe it was a fluke. Maybe it wasn't female Omegas in general who were more affected, and he was just extrapolating.

That was when the door opened. Dick kept himself still, as stone faced as he could.

He did not want to face whoever this was, the promised associate of Joker. However, there was very little choice in that matter.

And so, the figure came into his field of vision.

–

Starfire did not understand why the Flash was currently trying to beat lazer pointers to their destination. No one could honestly tell if he did or not, presuming he could go that fast.

Still, she sat there dutifully, watching as he blurred everywhere. Well, less than a blue, honestly.

“Flash?” she asked, knowing he was a longtime friend of Dick's.

He paused. “Hm?” He looked worn out, from what little she could make out. The red suit, despite being very tight, could hide a lot, but not his total exhaustion. His shoulders slumped, his leg kept twitching, very quickly, and there was that downward turn to his mouth.

She stood, walking over to him—and clamping a hand on his shoulder, restraining him. “You need to rest! Destroying yourself will not help bring Nightwing back, and I know you are running on smoke!”

“Fumes, but, yeah, uh... I can't help it. Can't sleep, eating tons, which kinda sorta not really means energy, and so... gotta run. Running makes things better,” he said lamely, like he understood how bad an explanation that was.

Starfire sighed. She knew the Flash, though not nearly as well as Nightwing and the Flash knew each other. “It is simply nervous energy. What you need is sleep, no matter how long you have to lie in that bed! Perhaps something from my home planet could aid you in catching the Z's...”

“Whoa, whoa, last time I ate something from Tamaran, my tongue turned green and fuzzy! You try kissing a lady with that!” the Flash held up his hands in peace gesture.

“I am actually not interested in the ladies, but I will take your word for it,” Starfire said, sighing. She let her slight visehold go, and instead hugged Flash—gently. One hand held the back of his head, as she said, “It will be all right. We will find out who is controlling Nightwing, and then we can free him.”

“Controlling? Do you know something I don't, Princess?” The Flash jerked to attention, completely not relaxed.

“Well... not really, but I know Nightwing,” Starfire said, “If he did hurt Raven, he did it for reasons beyond his control. Once, back when we were on the Teen Titans together, he was forced to become the apprentice of Slade. The evil man did this by implanting the rest of the team with body-destroying microrobots! Robin—Nightwing, felt he had to sacrifice his freedom and integrity to save us. He did some bad things in Slade's name, though nothing like this, quite.”

The Flash was nodding. “But we haven't seen him anywhere.”

“Yet,” Starfire pointed out, not ready to let her idea go quite yet. “If he didn't do this thing to Raven, then who else could have? I think it is most likely he was forced to.”

“Yeah... yeah, maybe. But that's still very similar to our kidnapping theory,” the Flash pointed out, “Either way, we have to go out there and find him and set him free... right?”

“Ah, but one scenario involves a willing prisoner to rescue, and the other may require fighting our friend. It is a horrible, horrible choice to have to make, but we must keep it in mind; Nightwing is much desired as a henchman, of sorts, due to his peak physical ability,” Starfire replied, “It has happened before, and it can happen again.”

“Plus, after what happened with the second Robin...” Flash said lowly. “He may very well be in the midst of brainwashing attempts.”

Starfire nodded seriously. She knew how much what happened to his brother had hurt Dick. Batman had kept it fairly hush hush, but that didn't mean most of the people who had any relation to the Bat family didn't know. “If we have to fight him... I'm sure he'd rather be taken bruised and batted about than hurt more people. I'm sure he'd rather hurt physically than mentally.”

“Huh. That's a pretty accurate description of Nightwing,” Flash mused.

Starfire abruptly picked him up, bridal style, ignored his squeak of surprise. It really was rather cute, but there were far more pressing matters at hand. “Come. You are Nightwing's friend, so it matters to me what happens to you.”

“We going to your room?” Flash flirted nervously. “Starfire, I need to--”

“We are going to your room, and you are going to rest! You are a speedster, you need rest more than the average person!” Starfire left no room for debate, and Flash quieted, shoulders slumping in defeat.

“...never could say no to a pretty girl...”

Starfire smiled. She mused that she could never say no to a Robin, something proven by Jason when he wasn't broken beyond recognition and by Tim, the newest Robin, besides of course Dick. She wasn't sure if this was because of her affection for the original Robin, or if it just so happened that Batman chose his partners for their ability to charm Tamaranns.

Weirder things had happened.

She got Flash tucked in tightly, and switched off his light.

“You'll tell me if—”

“Of course, of course, just sleep!” she smiled at him, knowing it was a sad smile.

“You try sleeping in full costume,” came the mumble.

She smiled to herself. She pretty much did that by default.

He would probably wake up 'blinded' by his mask moving, knowing the Flash, but she just left. Already, there was the sound of sleepy breaths coming from Flash, and she knew he would do a lot more good with more sleep.

Pressing a hand against the watchtower's thick windows, she stared out into space.

She knew Tamaran was in that direction, but at the moment, it felt less like home and more like a place too far away from her real life.

Nightwing would be found, down on that blue and green beautiful sphere. And she would make sure he made it through—for both her friends' sakes.

–

“Ugh...” Courtney came awake with a splitting headache. “Oh god... who bulldozed my head...?”

As she came out of the haze of pain, buzzing her brain like a large, biting fly, she realized she was restrained. She was upright, wrists up but not directly over her head; her feet were encased, and a bar around her waist completed the setup. “Y'know, I think I'm a little young for this kind of stuff!”

The booming laughter made her regret the quip, wincing visibly at it.

“Oh, Stargirl...leave the quips to the boy wonder. He really is much better at it.”

“Yeah...? Which one?” Courtney cursed her back comeback. Half the work of heroing was coming up with good comebacks and quips, and sometimes she really sucked at it. At least Kara--

“Where's Kara?” she demanded, purpose coming through her brain like the slightest of icicles.

She couldn't see where the voice was coming from, couldn't recognize it.

“Not to worry,” it boomed again, “We only need you for...hm. Well, this is embarrassing, I'm not entirely sure we _do_ need you... Cosmic Lass?”

“You just said my name...” Courtney groaned, “Bastard.” Her Stepdad would clean her mouth out with soap for that one. He didn't seem to realize that literally every kid at high school spoke that way.

The laugh again, and damnit, why did she have to keep making him _laugh_? Could anyone in the known universe have a louder laugh?

“Hm. I suppose we may still need cooperation from Supergirl, so... for now, you live. Enjoy your accomodations.”

“That was a whole load of nothing!” Stargirl shouted after him, “That was such a waste of time—tell me where Kara is, or--”

A door slammed, and after her shouting, her whole head was throbbing, feeling like it would burst. She groaned softly, and hung her head to try to relieve the feeling.

Kara. She had to reach her somehow. They had some sort of plan for her, and it couldn't be good.

But for the moment, she sank back into buzzing unconsciousness.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone is making strides towards figuring out what's going on--and tabloid writers are a--holes.

Dick stared at the face in front of him. It wasn't Joker, which was probably a good thing, but it didn't make the man himself a good thing.

Another mask. Joker didn't do masks, or at least not plain black ones. If he was going for a mask, he'd try something outrageous, like dead people Dick knew or something.

Unless he realized the plain mask was more outrageous for him and was messing with Dick...

But no. He didn't smell quite the same as the Joker; Joker had a sort of twisted, chemical scent to him. This man just smelled like a typical Alpha.

Dick knew he was shivering, and quite obviously starting his heat. He still glared, saying, “Hey. What's up?”

He got a chuckle in response. “I see you're still in possession of your senses.”

“I will keep possession of my senses, thank you. That's not going anywhere,” Dick said, almost conversationally, but he knew he had a steely undertone. He was not going to be broken down over this. He was not going to let them win.

“You know, we were quite surprised when the weapon worked on you,” the Alpha continued, “As you weren't confirmed to be an Omega. We thought perhaps it had been botched, or was even more useful than it initially seemed! But no. You're simply very unusual.”

“Yeah, cause developing a weapon specifically to target Omegas and then keeping one in your basement is not unusual at all,” Dick said, and he wished he could at least feel his toes. They felt ice cold, and yet like they were not there at all at the same time. He shuddered again, knowing the heat and pheromones were rolling off of him in waves.

The Alpha chuckled. “Well, you are right, it is a basement—more of a sub-basement, but close enough. You are still Batman's protege, even if a bit addled by hormones--”

“I am not addled,” Dick responded evenly.

The Alpha just shook his head. “You're probably wondering why you're here. Why take you and not your mate?”

“Am I getting answers, or are you just trying to torment me? Cause, I'd like to know if I should just tune you out or not, your voice is very irritating—you might need a lozenge,” Dick said, not quite up to the more quippy tone of usual, but feeling somewhat satisfied with what he'd said.

Again, the Alpha laughed. “You're here for my sake, Nightwing. I am only involved here for one reason, and that reason is you.”

Dick said, “Whatever you're thinking, it's been tried before—and it didn't stick.”

“Ah yes, Slade did fail the first time—but I will not. Your days of superheroing are over, Nightwing, as is that moniker. I will come up with a more suitable name in time.”

“Who are you?” Dick demanded, a shiver going through him—from the cold, he told himself, not fear.

There was a chuckle again. “You're a detective, aren't you? Figure it out.”

And he left the room, apparently satisfied with tormenting Dick.

But Dick's brain set to work—it wasn't Slade, it wasn't Joker, and that was somewhere to start. From his mannerisms, his apparent goal, so on and so forth...

He could figure this out...provided it was something that was possible for him to figure out.

–

Tim was curled on the chair at the computer, knees drawn up to his chest. Bruce realized the boy had fallen asleep, despite his obvious best attempts not to do so. At least this time the keyboard wasn't imprinted on his face.

Bruce sighed. It had been even longer now, even less chance of Dick returning alive.

He'd allowed himself to be dragged to bed by Alfred, sleeping at least four hours, and apparently Tim had taken up the search via internet while he was sleeping. The boy was hardly fourteen, but he took this every bit as seriously as Batman himself did.

He wedged his arms under Tim, lifting him, and headed for the cot. The boy was lightweight in his arms, and he had the brief moment of remembering Dick at that size or age.

Once, Dick had knocked himself out hitting a brick wall. It hadn't been his fault—it was rare one expected a building to literally jump. That was a mess of a mission Bruce didn't often recall if he could help it.

But Dick had been just as lightweight, and Bruce had been reminded of his role as father, not just partner or leader. He'd looked too small, in some ways.

Of course, Tim was much more tense, tightly curled, than Dick had been.

He gently deposited Tim on the cot, and Tim uncurled just enough to clench a hand in the small pillow.

Bruce sighed to himself, again. Would he end up having two out of three of his sons hurt by his crusade? Ruined beyond repair? Even...

He clenched his teeth. What if Tim was next? What if he had been making a mistake in taking _anyone_ on?

His brain seemed to buzz from lack of sleep, and he considered his options. Should he keep Tim out of this? Keep him safe, like he kept Jason safe—now?

He reached to touch Tim's head, then huffed to himself and turned away.

He had to find Dick. That came first.

Following leads that Tim had apparently discovered, he continued on his computer, ignoring the ding sound that indicated messages from Superman.

–

Kara didn't often black out. She had tried to get drunk once, and that hadn't succeeded—alien physiology and all that.

Courtney had managed to get drunk, and that...was a whole adventure on its own. When she'd mentioned Courtney sobbing about her cleaning up her vomit, she'd been told she should have taped it, but she doubted Courtney would have appreciated that.

Her girlfriend had sworn off drinking forever after that. Especially after her step-dad found out and grounded her.

But Kara was coming back to consciousness, in a different way from waking up. It was like it was sudden, like it was coming out of blackness and not a dream. Her head seemed to crackle a little, and she blinked as she took in the room, the fond memory of her poor girlfriend fading quickly.

White, sterile, and the kind of cuffs that could hold her to the bed. She took in a deep breath, remembering not to panic. She used her x-ray vision, but found the room was lead-lined.

Her heart seemed to pitter-patter anxiously at the thought of Courtney, horribly mortal Courtney, in danger out there, somewhere unknown, but she took more calming breaths. Panicking would help no one. 

There was no one in the room, no sign that she was being watched—but she guessed she was. She strained to try to catch sight of a camera, as a two-way mirror would not work due to the lead lining, but she couldn't find anything.

A voice suddenly came through crystal clear, but she could faintly make out the sounds of digital speakers at work. It kind of had a hum, a sort of sonic sound to it. 

“Supergirl. I see you're awake.”

“Observant of you,” Kara responded, keeping an easygoing, relaxed tone to her voice. Like she wasn't bothered by being strapped down to a table in an unfamiliar place. She was _Supergirl_ , of course she wasn't bothered—at least, that was the image she was trying to project.

The voice didn't seem to care much. “Please keep your struggling to a minimum. The equipment is designed to hold you, and you won't escape, but you are hooked up to fairly delicate instruments; it would be annoying to have to continually replace them, though be assured, it can be done.”

Kara smirked, and twitched her hand at superspeed, breaking the heart rate monitor. “Oops. Was that minimal enough for you?”

She could imagine the voice sighing, though all it said, rather tightly, was, “Direct your attention to the screen.”

A screen turned on—it was a flatscreen kind of one on a hinge, but fairly old still. Like, back when flatscreens were first introduced or something. But the image that appeared on it made Kara's breath stop for a moment.

Courtney was in an upright position, cuffed to a wall by her ankles and wrists, plus a band over her waist. She was slumped, hair in her face and eyes probably shut.

Kara managed to control her voice just in time. “Is she alive?”

“She is, for now. That depends on you, however.”

“Where is she?”

“None of your concern—your concern is whether or not she stays alive and whole.”

Kara grit her teeth, angry and scared all at once, angry that she was scared. She could see the way that Courtney wasn't trying to support her body weight, that she was out—but then she started moving, and Kara couldn't hear anything, but she could see the face Courtney made, and her girlfriend was clearly suffering from an agonizing headache.

Courtney started to move, but had clearly discovered she was trapped before, because she gave up quickly. She just hung her head, obviously trying to make the pain stop.

“Give her something for the pain,” Kara said, feeling the pain as though it was her own. She didn't often feel it, but she knew it, had been through pretty bad pain before, and she didn't want Court to suffer through that.

“Why would we do that?”

“Because I'll go along with you. I'll be cooperative,” Kara said, nerves thrumming in her body but fairly certain that whatever they wanted, it was not her death, and that she wouldn't be able to do much without risking Courtney anyway.

Because she wouldn't risk Courtney.

Courtney was human. Completely human, and she was obviously already hurt. As proven when she threw up on screen.

It was silent for a few moments, and then, finally, “Very well. That's acceptable.”

Kara only hoped she wasn't doing something that she would seriously regret. But she wasn't sure how she could regret it if Courtney ended up alive.

–

The tabloid was horrendous, and Starfire gripped in a hand that was narrowly avoiding not lighting it up.

“How dare they!” she snapped, and Wally looked up in shock from the food he was eating.

“What? What is it?”

“This!” she threw the tabloid on the table.

A picture of Nightwing, with his hand on a young woman's back—one that Wally instantly recognized as Argent, who had shied from public attention since her time in the Titans—and a picture of Raven that...was clearly photoshopped to make her appear to be just barely 'showing'--was captioned, “Secret Mate on the Side—Nightwing Beats Mate Raven to Induce Miscarriage!” Lower, more text declared, “He never wanted a child! She Threatened to Tell Batman!”

Starfire's lip was curled in disgust.

Wally couldn't imagine his expression was much different. “God...god. That's...that's messed up.”

“I want to melt their heads,” Starfire said, though her tone suggested she recognized this was not an appropriate thing to do. To feel, sure, but not do.

Wally nodded, knowing how much he'd love to hit them and be gone before they even knew who did it. He could do it, he was sure, though it would probably be linked to him—but that was not something he _should_ do. As much as those bastards deserved it.

Dick was just a tactile person, and the touch on Argent's back was hardly romantic or sexual. Wally seemed to recognize it, though the background was different—it had been at a called off mission, one that had had high tension beforehand. It had been a touch of comfort for a teammate—and one he didn't see often, at that.

Because he was a good person and cared that his team was all right emotionally too, not just physically.

Damn them for using that against him.

Still, Wally stood. “Done eating. Done sleeping. Now we keep looking for Nightwing.”

Starfire nodded. “We could use bait, you know. Do something that could draw him out—or the people forcing him to do their will.”

Wally had to admit, normal search and rescue had not worked. “Okay. Okay. What kind of bait are you thinking?”

Starfire smiled. She clearly had something—or someone—in mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! Sorry I didn't update this for so long. I got a little lost on what I was doing to begin with. I think I'm back on track now, if anybody's still interested. :P


End file.
